


Alexis Crashes a Wedding

by Mosca



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 2, Gen, Judaism, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22978060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mosca/pseuds/Mosca
Summary: Signing a ketubah is serious mitzvah business.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11
Collections: Purimgifts 2020





	Alexis Crashes a Wedding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sansets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansets/gifts).



> Set in season 4. Thanks to k for the beta!

Alexis gets a frantic text from David. At least she imagines it’s frantic, because she can’t imagine her brother sending a _calm_ text, or really doing anything calmly. He wants her to come to the store. He won’t tell her why - that would be way too informative. She puts on a cute pair of sandals and refreshes her lip gloss for the walk. 

“Please, please, please, can you drive these gift baskets to Elmdale, Patrick hurt his back and he says it’s okay and he’ll drive but he’s whining about it, you can borrow his car, please Alexis, I owe you.”

Alexis leans forward onto the checkout desk and drums her nails across it. “How did Patrick hurt his back, David?”

David purses his lips and stalls.

“Ew, David, I changed my mind, never tell me,” she says. 

The gift baskets are already loaded into the trunk. Patrick’s car is old enough to have a CD player, and all of his CDs are weird, depressing stuff except for Tina Turner’s Greatest Hits, which Alexis guesses will do. She’s delivering to the Elmdale Inn & Suites, which is probably okay as long as she doesn’t tell her dad. 

The front desk clerk, who is both way nicer and way hotter than Stevie, is helping Alexis unload the baskets when a plump woman with very aggressive highlights runs up to them. “I’m so glad I caught you,” she says. “I’m Linda Birnbaum, the groom’s mother. We’re caught in a little conundrum. I was wondering if you know anyone Jewish who lives in the area.”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, no. I mean, unless you count me and my dad and my brother,” Alexis says. “Not my mom, but like, my dad made sure we’re both official. My bat mitzvah was voted the month’s hottest all-ages event.”

Linda Birnbaum grins with such delight that it looks like her highlights might catch fire. “We need someone to sign the ketubah before the wedding ceremony tomorrow. The rabbi can do it, but all the other Jews on the guest list are relatives. I don’t suppose you could drop by at about 5:00 tomorrow evening?”

“For a wedding? Count me in, Mrs. Birnbaum. Thanks so much for the invite! Can I bring a plus one?”

Mrs. Birnbaum looks a little less delighted but says, “Of course, we can make room for you and a friend at the reception. Thanks so much, Miss -”

“Rose.” She gives a little James Bond smize. “Alexis Rose.”

Alexis drives home singing along to Tina Turner, excited to tell Ted they’re going to a wedding. He’s not as thrilled as she is, but he seems happy that she’s happy. “So what is this thing you have to sign?” he asks.

“In a Jewish wedding, the bride and groom - or groom and groom, or whatever - they sign a contract before the ceremony. It’s like a prenup, but for your soul. And you have to have two Jewish adults who aren’t related to the couple, to sign it as witnesses.”

“Well, that’s one way to crash a wedding,” Ted says. It sounds like he likes the idea more now.

The next day, Alexis spends the whole afternoon picking out the perfect dress and accessories, and getting her hair and makeup just right. She doesn’t know whether signing the ketubah means she gets to be in the wedding pictures, but she wants to be prepared. 

At the signing ceremony, Alexis squeezes Ted’s hand. When she goes up to sign, she asks the rabbi, “Do I sign my English name or my Hebrew name?”

“Most people just do English,” the rabbi says. “But you can write both if you want.”

Alexis signs her English name with a flourish, and then, carefully, with knowledge stored up from Hebrew school a thousand years ago, prints the four letters of her Hebrew name. “Is that how you spell Esther?” she asks the rabbi.

“You did a lovely job,” he assures her.


End file.
